


DEATH DOESN'T DISCRIMINATE

by AgnesClementine



Category: Misfits (TV 2009), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, HE'LL BE BACK, Nathan is John's son, SO, Self-Indulgent, but it's Nathan, family fic, mostly pre-series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 16:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20138122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgnesClementine/pseuds/AgnesClementine
Summary: John first meets the kid about ten months after his birth.*********************************************************I got an idea and it wouldn't let me go.





	DEATH DOESN'T DISCRIMINATE

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I promise this is not as dark as the tags may have made it seem.  
Second of all, I messed up SPN canon, so the things go like this: everything is as it was except for the fact that John doesn't die- Dean didn't get that badly hurt in the car crash- and there's no Azazel's plan with "special children", the Winchesters are just hunting the demon that killed Mary.   
And the age differences between Nathan and the boys are like this: he's 6 yrs younger than Sam, and 10 yrs younger than Dean.
> 
> Let me know what you think about this and enjoy! :)

John first meets the kid about ten months after his birth. He remembers Sammy at this age, so very clearly like it's been yesterday and not six years ago. Sammy. _Christ, what is he going to tell the boys?_

The kid is a small bundle of pink, soft skin, big, doe eyes and a mop of unruly, thick curls already sticking out in about dozen directions on his head.

"His name is Nathan," Louise tells him, closing the front door behind him when she sees him staring at his- at the baby happily babbling to himself and squirming on the carpet in the living room.

John nods, not sure what he's supposed to say. It's a good name but somehow he thinks that his opinion doesn't matter.

He watches the kid some more. Takes in how happy and carefree and safe he looks here, in an actual house, with carpets that don't smell like mold, and decent heating, and his mother even if he's not aware of it. He doesn't know what John would do to be able to give this to his boys. But he can't. He has an obligation to Mary and the rest of the world, now that he knows what lurks in the shadows. He's obliged to make sure that innocent people stop getting hurt.

Louise comes to stand next to him and studies his face. "I'll put on a pot for some tea. Or coffee, if I recall correctly," she says, taking notice of dark bags under his eyes. He hasn't slept the entire airplane ride, hasn't gotten a chance to shut his eyes from the moment he dropped the boys off at Bobby's and left with a flimsy explanation as soon as he got the phone call.

She brushes past him to scoop her son up and tells John, "Let's go to the kitchen."

He stares at the kid the whole time while she putters around the stove, back turned to him. Nathan babbles the whole time, animated and full of energy.

"He's a chatty baby," he comments.

Louise twists to throw a slight smile over her shoulder, "Sure is. But just wait until he starts crying."

It's said with fond exasperation, and it confuses John further. If she feels like this, why's he here? She doesn't seem very likely to pass him over to John.

"I can imagine."

Dean was a quiet baby, not too fussy, but Sammy, Jesus. The pair of vocal cords on him as a baby (and to John's chagrin, even now occasionally).

Louise looks at him, slightly surprised.

"You have more children?" She asks. ‘_Beside Nathan_' goes unspoken.

He nods, scrubbing a hand over his face, and wondering once more how is he going to explain this to them.

"Two boys, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. How old are they?"

"Sammy is six and Dean is ten," he responds.

Nathan gurgles joyfully, flailing his chubby hands in his high chair. _Really cute kid_, John thinks, the parent in him reappearing at the sight.

"Their mother?" Louise wonders carefully, looking at the ring on his hand. John imagines she thinks he's a cheater.

"She's dead," the words come easier now, but he knows the feeling of a knife in his guts will never go away completely. "She got murdered when Sammy was a baby."

Louise sucks in a sharp breath, "Dear God, that is awful. I'm so sorry."

John acknowledges it with a nod and says, "Thanks," as she pushes a cup of coffee in front of him.

She sets another one barely in her reach and takes Nathan out of his high chair to put him on her lap when she sits down opposite John.

The reason for setting her cup so far away makes itself clear when Nathan starts squirming, arms swinging out with gleeful shrieks.

"He's going to be a nightmare when he gets a bit older," Louise says, wincing as Nathan keeps shrieking in her ear.

"You want to give him up?" He asks bluntly.

Louise looks at him, eyebrows rising, "Yes, that's why I called you here, across the ocean."

She smoothes a hand over Nathan's hair affectionately as she speaks, so the deadpan effect of her voice is ruined. Nathan coos, calming down as she keeps smoothing out his curls. Or trying to, since they curl up immediately as her fingers let go of the locks.

He takes a big gulp of his coffee while she takes a small sip of hers.

"Why am I here, Louise? We had fun but…I'm not in a good place to raise a kid," he tells her.

He expects her to get mad. Or sad. Or anything that's not making her calmly sip her coffee while the subject of this conversation wriggles in her lap.

"John," she starts, setting her cup down and rearranging her hold on Nathan, "I'm a strong believer in truth. And I didn't call you because I hoped you would take Nathan, or move over to help raise him. I called you because you deserve to know that you have a son. What you choose to do with that information is not for me to decide."

It's short and to the point; something John appreciated about her since he first met her.

"I'm not staying," he says firmly. His eyes land on Nathan, at the same time, reminding him so much of Sammy and looking nothing like him.

"I can't stay. But I want to see him again," he says although it sounds dangerous- although it _is _dangerous. With what he does for a living now…

Hesitantly, he adds, "Maybe take the boys to meet him."

Louise smiles again, "That sounds wonderful."

He nods, his mind already thinking of ways in which he could bring this up to them. Sammy did say he'd like a baby brother so he's not the youngest anymore…

"Do you want to hold him?"

The question catches him off guard, even though he should have expected it, and he nods, standing up. They meet at the side of the table and Louise hands Nathan over with reluctance of a first-time mother.

But then there's a warm, living weight in his arms, breathing and with a beating heart just like his own, and it gets settled. No matter what, the boys will meet Nathan, and nothing bad is ever going to happen to him. John will personally make sure of that if he has to.

  * ●●

The boys meet Nathan- properly, face-to-face because phone calls don't count- when Nathan is just over 2 years old. Days, and weeks, and months, and _a year_ of phone calls and letters, and the boys are practically vibrating in their seats by the time the cab leaves them in front of Louise's house.

Sammy zooms up to the front door as soon as the car is not moving anymore and Dean walks by John in more leisure- but no less excited- pace. They've both been hesitant at the prospect of having another brother, but Sammy warmed up to the idea quickly while Dean took his time being suspicious. Not that John can blame him; seeing as he installed that trait in him early on.

He rings the doorbell and reins Sammy in with a hand on his shoulder so he doesn't mow over Louise as soon as she opens the door.

When she does, not even a minute later, she's looking frazzled and ushers them in quickly.

"Hello! It's so nice to meet you boys, finally! Let me take your jac-" a crashing noise sounds off from somewhere in the house and she utters a quiet, "Shite," before howling Nathan's name and rushing off.

John takes off his coat and hangs it on the rack by the door before doing the same with his sons'.

Sam is listening intently to any noise in the house, looking up at John and waiting for permission to run off and find his baby brother. Instead of doing that, John leads them to the living room, taking notice of crayon drawings on the walls.

Dean is looking around curiously, sat on the couch next to Sammy while John paces the length of the carpet- the same one where he first laid his eyes on his youngest son.

They hear footsteps and then Louise is entering the room, Nathan in her arms and trying to scramble out of her hold.

"Sorry about that. He's, ah, very lively," she tells them, bending down to set Nathan on the carpet. John watches as he twists out of her arms like a kitten, providing a running commentary that consists of garbled noises and high pitched sounds.

Sammy's looking at him in awe.

Dean is looking at him like he doesn't quite believe what he sees.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims suddenly, "Look at that hair!"

Nathan looks at him briefly, looking like he's offended by the interruption, and Louise laughs before John can remind him to behave.

Though, really, the mop of soft curls he had when John first met him has nothing over the nest of dark, messy hair on his head. They hang around his round face, eyes big and no longer baby blue- instead, they're as green as John remembers his mother's being. (He remembers Mary telling him once that most of the babies get born with blue eyes that with time change color, so he's not surprised.)

Later, when he's sitting in the kitchen with Louise, it hits him. Really, truly hits him, as he watches the boys playing with Nathan- as he watches how much he looks like both of them- in the living room, that he has another son.

He asks Louise for a shot of something strong, and she doesn't even give him a disapproving look, noticing his state of mind.

"I think I've got some rum," she tells him, brings the bottle and two glasses.

  * ●●

Dean is not sure about pros with having another younger brother. It's better than having an older brother, he thinks, because a baby can't boss him around, at least.

Baby, whose name is Nathan, hasn't stopped babbling since his mom brought him in. Dean is a little worried if he's getting enough air, but he's not turning blue yet so he thinks it's okay. His hair is really big, though. He thinks Nathan looks like a girl but also thinks it would be rude to say so out loud.

He supposes he could teach him stuff like he did with Sammy. How to walk, and talk, and tie his shoelaces so he doesn't trip over them all the time. Though he doesn't know how he could do that when he lives in the UK. (Maybe they will stay here. But Dean doesn't like it here. The food is not the same and people talk funny. Maybe they can take Nathan home with them.)

He takes a peek through the doorway. His dad and Nathan's mom are sitting at the table, a tall bottle of something clear between them.

"Uh-oh," Sammy says suddenly and Dean looks over to find Nathan holding his pinky in his tiny hand, intelligible words spilling out of his mouth.

"Dean, he won't let go," Sammy whines.

"He's just a baby, let him be," he responds, sliding off the couch to sit next to the two of them on the carpet.

Sammy pouts, but lets Nathan tug at his finger for a few more seconds, before he gets bored.

  * ●●

Sam was excited to have a baby brother. Dean always made it sound like being older is super fun so he couldn't wait to find out. He thought babies were fun.

But Nathan is kinda boring.

"But we just got here," he complains to Dean when his mom takes him up to take a nap. He can walk but he's a bit wobbly so Sam supposes he can't really go up the stairs.

Dean wrinkles his face at him, "He's gotta sleep sometime, you know."

"He can sleep at night," he responds.

"But he's gotta sleep at daytime too."

"Why?"

Dean scrunches his eyebrows thoughtfully. After a moment, he says, "Babies can't really do much. He'd get bored if he just played all day. So he's got to sleep a bit too."

Sam nods because okay, that makes sense. He gets bored after doing the same thing for a long time too.

Though he hopes he'll wake up again soon. He wants to play with him some more and he doesn't think dad will let them stay here the whole day.

At least Nathan's mom brings them soda and some weird cookies (they don't taste bad but Sam never had them before) and lets them watch TV while they wait. He doesn't understand some words- and neither does Dean when he asks him- but it's better than just sitting in silence.

  * ●●

Louise answers the call after the tenth ring, huffing into the speaker.

"John, hi. Give me a moment, yeah?" And then she yells, "Nathan, no! Don't touch the knife!"

John listens to the sounds of scuffle and Nathan's already familiar shrieking for a few moments before Louise comes back to the phone.

"Louise, how are you doing?" He asks, ignoring how she's breathing harshly from the other side.

"Say, how do you feel about taking him for the summer?" She asks jokingly, gulping in air.

John snorts, trying to imagine the disaster that would be getting a hyperactive, motor-mouth 5-year old on a plane turn out to be. Not to mention where'd he put him while they're working a case.

She hums at his reaction, "That's a no, I suppose."

"He's still-"

"Himself? Yeah. He's just- _Nathan! Please! Go watch TV!_\- He's just got a lot of energy, you know."

John chuckles, jamming the phone between his ear and shoulder, comparing crime scene photos in his hands. He thinks it could be a black dog.

"I remember that." God, Sammy on a sugar rush gave him the majority of his grey hairs.

Louise sighs, "Are you coming down for Christmas? He's been asking about you and the boys."

John drags a hand over his face, rubbing it over his mouth. He should shave, it's been a few days.

"I don't know, Louise. It's… busy here."

He'd send the boys with Bobby if he could because he knows they're getting antsy. They haven't visited in a while and even Dean- terrified as he is of airplanes- is visibly agitated. But John has finally found a lead on the Yellow-Eyed demon- however thin- and he's gotta see it through. He owes that to Mary.

But that would raise questions and the fewer people know about Nathan the safer he is from all of this. They're already cutting it close with all the traveling.

Louise is quiet so he adds, "We'll come around somewhere after New Year's."

"Alright," Louise says tightly and John pushes the feeling of guilt down, back where it came from because it just causes unnecessary distractions, "do you want to talk to him?"

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"Nathan, dear? Come say hi to your dad, he's on the phone," he hears her say away from the speaker, and a paddle of feet before the phone is wrestled out of her hand.

"Dad! Hi!" Nathan yells although it has been explained to him that _no, he doesn't need to yell even though they are on a different continent_.

"Hey, kiddo. How have you been?"

Nathan gives a long, heavy sigh because he's got a pronounced fondness for dramatics and he makes sure everyone knows. John's heart clenches fondly.

"My life is a lie," he tells John.

"Why's that?"

"Did you know that bees don't have lungs?"

John blinks at the ugly, moldy wallpaper in front of him and goes to fix himself a drink.

  * ●●

Dean loves his family. He loves dad. He loves Bobby. He loves Sammy. He loves Louise. He loves Nathan.

(Even though he's a little shit who doesn't have an off switch and is always loud, and rude, and clumsy.)

And at times like this, _he adores Nathan_.

They're in a hospital, and the room spins because Dean broke his leg when the ghost they were hunting threw him out the window- thank God it was the ground floor- and the doc here gave him some good stuff. Some good stuff that makes him feel like he's walking on clouds and eating cotton candy.

Sam is asking him how he's feeling when dad's phone goes off and Dean knows Louise has nothing nice to say when he picks up from the way he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"What did he do now?" Dad asks with a weary sigh.

Dean listens closely and can just make out Louise's words on the other side.

"_I swear to God, I'm two seconds away from- from …from putting him into a washing machine for a tumble!_"

Dean imagines Nathan in a washing machine- only his head visible through the door, and spinning in circles- and giggles.

"I see," dad says slowly.

"_Do you know what _your _son did today, John? Hm? Do you?_" Louise talks over him because she can be scarily focused at times. Dean doesn't know from whom did Nathan inherit his goldfish attention span, but it wasn't from her.

"I would if you'd just tell me."

When they talk like this, Dean can't help but wonder what it would be like if they got married. Because they sound like those married couples dad interviews during some cases. Would they move over to England? Or would Nathan and Louise move here?

"_During recess, he made one of his classmates cry so the teacher was going to bring him in for a time out. He snatched her classroom keys and tossed them on the roof. The roof, John! And when she told him he can't get water now because they're locked out, he told her to _"take the stick out of her bum and try to get them"."

Now, Dean has heard- and most definitely will hear- better things from Nathan. But he's high as a fucking kite so he bursts into laughter until tears are streaming down his face.

  * ●●

They haven't actually seen Nathan in about 2 years, so Sam is rightfully horrified to find out- once they _finally_ visit and they're all face to face- that Nathan is the same height as him.

Dean laughs, calling him scrawny, and Sam can't help but think how unfair it is. He finally got those extra few inches to reach Dean's shoulders and Nathan, _six years younger_ than him, is the same height he is.

Nathan scowls when Dean ruffles his hair- still a mop of ridiculous curls- and bangs his elbow into the doorway when he lets them in.

Though, Dean is right. They might be the same height, but Nathan is scrawny, bony knees, and elbows, and shoulders, and the knobs of his spine visible in the back of his neck when he hangs his head forward.

He catches dad sending Louise a concerned look from the welcoming mat, but she shakes her head.

(Sam hears them talking later.

"Is he eating enough?" His dad has asked with obvious worry that he rarely uses with him and Dean.

"Mhm," Louise hummed, "I took him to a doctor and everything. He just shot up like a weed over the last summer."

Their dad chuckled. "Damn tall for a ten-year-old," he said, still worried.)

Their worries get diminished soon when he practically inhales two servings of lasagna.

"Geez, where'd you put all of that?" Dean asks him jokingly after a gulp of soda because Louise wouldn't give him a beer.

Nathan mumbles, "In my mouth," with his cheeks round as a chipmunk.

He's a lot like Dean in that, always having an answer ready, or some smart-ass comment. Sam suspects he picked it up from Dean during their phone calls.

"Nathan, don't talk with your mouth full," Louise scolds him lightly before returning to the conversation she has with their dad.

Dean throws a shit-eating grin at Nathan, who in turn sticks his tongue out at Dean. Chewed up food and all.

Sam scrunches up his nose. "Gross," he says.

Dean flicks a breadcrumb across the table at Nathan and God, Sam swears he's sometimes acting like a ten-year-old too.

Anyway, he loves when they visit. And not just because he gets to see Nathan, but because Louise cooks them actual food and they eat it like a normal family. Well, as normal as they can be when Nathan is on one of his thought tangents.

He pokes at the food on his plate, wondering if he'll be allowed to visit in two years when he goes off to college. If he goes off to college.

  * ●●

They're camping out in Nathan's room, as became usual over all those years. He and Dean get the sleeping bags, and dad gets the couch downstairs. Some- most- of Louise's boyfriends found it beyond bizarre, but they just had to deal with it or get lost. It worked for all of them, even though Nathan more often than not woke them up in the middle of the night. He's got a vivid imagination; Sam once woke up to a foot in his head. He was fighting ninjas, Nathan told him, bleary-eyed when Sam pinched him out of his sleep.

He can't believe it's been a bit less than 10 years since they met. At least face-to-face.

"Did your room get smaller?" Dean asks from the other side of Nathan's bed, head poking up from the floor.

Nathan sprawls underneath the comforter and responds, "You're just taking up more space."

"Are you calling me fat?"

Nathan turns his head towards Dean, "_I'm not calling you thin._"

Dean splutters, mock-offended, "Wow, I'm- I'm in disbelief," then he launches himself at Nathan, "My blood insulting me like this," he speaks over sounds of Nathan screaming, giggling because Dean is playing harmonica on his ribs, "Sammy, did you hear what he said to me?"

He's grinning in delight, taking great joy in tormenting their younger brother like this, and Sam feels his own serious mask cracking.

"Aghh! No! Stop! You- you prick!" Nathan howls, trying to squirm away but to no avail.

"Nu-huh," Dean says, tucking him to his chest so he has nowhere to hide, "I believe I'm owed an apology."

"Fuh- fuh- fine! Fi-ine! Let me go!"

Dean does, just because it seems like Nathan is getting a bit lightheaded from all the laughing. He scrambles away from Dean and flops down, melting into the mattress.

"Apology," Dean reminds him.

Nathan starts hiccupping. His face scrunches up in distaste, "Aww, no."

"Apology."

Nathan glares at him- it's ruined because every time he hiccups, his whole, skinny body twitches with it- and says, "I'm sor-ry…that yo-u're fat."

Sam snorts and Dean's eyes narrow. And then he lunges again.

"Come here, you little shit!"

Nathan screeches and tries to get away. In the end, both of them fall off the bed- directly onto Sam. _Fucking typical_.

  * ●●

Dean gets awaken by his phone going off and scrambles to get it.

He presses it clumsily against the side of his head and grumbles out, "What?"

He crawled into bed much, _much_ earlier than he usually would but that doesn't mean he already got his beauty sleep, okay?

There's no pause before a voice practically screams, "How would one obtain alcohol without a fake ID?! In theory!"

He flinches, swallowing a curse and asks, "Nathan?"

He glances at the time display in the corner of his phone screen- 9 pm, which means it's 3 am in the UK.

"The hell? Why are you still up? I thought Louise gave you a curfew."

Nathan sniffs on the other side of the line, "What Louise doesn't know can't hurt her, yeah? Yeah. So, about getting my hands on a pint of… some kind of alcohol? _In theory_."

Now that Dean's listening, he can hear some noise in the background, voices, and music, traffic too. He narrows his eyes.

"Where are you right now?" He asks.

Nathan takes a moment to answer, "Does it matter?"

"You're thirteen! You're supposed to be in bed!"

"Does it have to be my own bed?"

Dean wrinkles his nose, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Boo, you're no fun!" Nathan tells him, probably stomps his feet too because he's childish like that.

Someone giggles, high pitched and unsteady and Dean frowns. Nathan is… the type of a kid that kidnappers would give back after half an hour with him, but Dean still doesn't like the idea of him walking around the streets at this time of the night. Definitely not around sketchy parts of the town. With sketchy people.

And from what he can hear, it sounds like Nathan's in a sketchy part of the town.

"Go home, Nathan," he advises, although he feels bad for being the spoilsport. Sam is the nerd who left them for _college_. Dean was supposed to be _the cool brother_.

Though, Nathan is _way_ too young to be out so late.

"What? No! I'm about to have fun!" Nathan hollers.

"I'm serious, dude. I'll call Louise to go get you."

Nathan gasps, "_You wouldn't_."

"Like hell I wouldn't. Get your ass back home on your own this instant, or I'll have your mom come pick you up," he realizes how much he sounds like dad and adds, "it's gonna be really embarrassing."

"You're embarrassing," Nathan shoots back, "and a traitor!"

"Love you too, baby bro," Dean teases.

"Screw you!" He responds and hangs up.

Dean can't be sure if he'll actually go home, but he hopes he knows that Dean would call his mom if necessary and that _makes_ him go home.

He decides to go back to sleep and call Louise to check how everything went when he wakes up for real.

  * ●●

Holidays after Sam leaves for college are awkward. Thanksgiving was tense but went without an incident- but then that first Christmas, the neighbors called the cops because dad and Sam kept fighting. Louise banished both of them out of the house and sent them off to the nearest hotel. Nathan, 12 at the time, kept jumping from looking like he was watching a particularly entertaining soap opera to looking nervous and lost. He has always been such a cocksure little shit so that expression sat wrong on his features. Dean would've loved if he was able to reassure him with more than a comforting squeeze on the still bony shoulder, but he himself was still pissed, hurt, sad, and a mixture of all three.

But life went on. Dad and Sam came to some unspoken, mutual agreement to generally just ignore each other during family gatherings, and things went almost back to normal.

Dean piles his plate full of turkey, mashed potatoes and everything else that Louise set on the table. He balances it carefully in front of himself and sneaks a glance at Sam next to him and Nathan who is sitting opposite to Sam. He used to be opposite to Dean, but Sam and he switched seats because _apparently_ Sam and dad can't sit next to each other like normal people anymore. So now, anytime Dean looks up, he's faced with Louise who doesn't even try to hide how weird and awkward everything is. Her face is expressive as hell and that is one thing Nathan definitely got from her.

She's got a wrinkle on her forehead that Dean learned means she's trying to find something to say, to break the silence that fell over them- because for once in their lives, Nathan is actually quiet.

Might be because he currently has his face full, chewing like he hasn't eaten in days. He's still skinny as a twig though.

"So, how is work?" Louise finally asks.

Everyone stops for a second with what they're doing- except for Nathan, always so unbothered- before dad answers.

"Good," he says simply and so Louise's attempt at lightening the atmosphere dies down. She sends him a squinty, narrow-eyed look that he either ignores or isn't aware of.

Of course, everything goes to shit when Nathan opens his mouth.

"Well, so much about education turning things for better, eh?" He pipes up suddenly.

Louise closes her eyes, dad tightens his jaw, and Sam's knife scratches over the plate with a screech. Dean wants to hit his head against the tabletop until he blacks out so he doesn't have to listen to this again. Nathan has that ‘oopsie, I just realized I fucked up' look on his face.

"Depends on who you ask," Sam grits out, making evident that he's not aiming his response at Nathan.

Dad narrows his eyes at the jab.

Dean exchanges a look with Louise. She seems to share his idea of giving herself a concussion so she can skip this.

"Depends on what are the pros and cons of that education."

Nathan shrugs, "Sounds to me like two mental wankers discussing the weather and thinking it's maths."

"Nathan," his mom hisses. Nobody else even twitches, gotten used to his lack of filter ages ago.

"Actually," Sam says with a jab of his fork, "only one of us thinks this is complicated. The other one knows that's bullshit."

Dad lets his cutlery clatter against the plate and points a finger at Sam, "You watch your mouth! You're still talking to me!"

Sam's eyes blaze, "Oh, sorry for telling the truth!"

Nathan sinks into his seat, eyes going wide as marbles as the drama unfolds in front of him. "Shite," he mouths to himself.

Dad stands up, "You know what I think about your truth!"

Sam, always needing to be on the same level as dad, rises from his chair as well.

"Oh, right! It would be best if I just stayed under your thumb forever! God forbid I have a mind of my own!"

"I never said that, and you know that! You know damn well why I didn't want you to go to Palo Alto!"

At one point, both Sam and dad ended up standing just behind Dean, almost chest to chest and yelling over his head. Dean keeps his eyes on the table because if he looks, he knows someone's gonna ask for his opinion. And that didn't end very well the first time around.

See, Dean is not easily impressed, or intimidated. But when Louise springs to her feet and, tiny as she is, shoves herself in between two of them, both over 6 feet tall, he can't help but think, _damn_, even after all those years of knowing her.

She smacks both of them upside the head and grabs the fronts of their shirts to pull them down to her eye-level.

"You, and you. Outside. This instant," she hisses dangerously, pulling them after her as she marches towards the back door.

When the door shuts behind them, Nathan and Dean are plunged into silence.

Nathan is picking at his food with an ‘oh, what can you do' expression and Dean feels a petty spark of anger aimed at him for starting this shit again, accidental as it may be.

"Nice job, jackass," he says bitterly.

  * ●●

Nathan is not in his bed when Dean opens the door.

He pauses at the doorway, taking in the sleeping bags, and all the things a child might have in his room- except Nathan is 15 and doesn't seem to spend that much time here anyway. At least not enough to consider redecorating.

He felt bad for that comment at the dinner, but there's no one to apologize to now.

He feels a presence at his shoulder.

"Where's Nathan?" He hears Sam ask.

"I've got no clue," he responds and walks in, letting Sam pass as well before shutting the door.

"What happened outside?" He asks carefully, lying down in his sleeping bag.

Sam shrugs, face sour, "Same old." Then he adds, "Louise yelled at us."

Dean feels his eyes bug out, "_That was her?_ Shit."

"You could hear us?" Sam asks from the other side of the bed.

"Not enough to know what was said. But seriously, Louise yelled at you? And dad?"

They sit up to look at each other over the mattress.

Sam nods seriously. "I honestly thought she was going to hit us again. For real this time."

Dean whistles quietly. He can't really imagine Louise yelling at anyone. Except at Nathan but everyone yells at Nathan.

Sam's eyebrows furrow, "You know, I think she's pissed because of Nathan."

"Nathan?" Dean frowns, "I mean, sure, but, uh, why, exactly?"

Sam leans over the bed, "I don't know. I mean, you noticed it too, right?"

"Noticed what?"

Sam widens his eyes and looks around the room like that was supposed to give him a clue.

"He's different. C'mon, Dean, you noticed he's more…you know, asshole-ish than usually. And sneaking out?" He sweeps an arm over the decidedly Nathan-less room for emphasis.

Dean thinks back to that time Nathan called him from a club. _When he was thirteen_.

"What? You think he got into a bad company?" He asks and immediately feels ridiculous. That's the type of shit that happens in those high school/teenager/family drama movies. It's not real life, and it's definitely not _their_ life.

Though, Sam frowns, "I don't know, Dean. Maybe?"

He rolls his eyes, pushing his worry aside. He's just being overprotective, paranoid brother Sam always accuses him of being.

"He's a teenager, Sam. They're supposed to not make sense. I'm sure he's fine."

  * ●●

Sam watches as dad debates between bursting into laughter and starting to swear the longer Louise talks. The only thing that's sure is the ruddy color of his face- either from anger or holding in laughter.

"Are you serious?...He's- Christ….How long?...200 days?...That kid…I'm in the middle of something, but I'll call him later….Yeah, you too. Bye."

He exchanges a curious, confused look with Dean, who's leafing through some old tomes Bobby dumped on them.

The conversation made no sense to him and he watches his dad expectantly while he pockets his phone.

When he turns and finds both his sons' attention on him, he says, "Your brother got himself arrested and doing community service."

They wait until they are alone and then start laughing.

  * ●●

"How the bloody hell do you already know?" Nathan's voice crackles through the receiver.

"Dude," Sam starts, "Louise called dad. Probably as soon as she found out."

"Aw, bollocks," Nathan whines.

"What did you even get arrested for?" Dean pipes up.

"Eatin' Pick'n'Mix."

"What? Bullshit."

"Nah, truth. I swear!"

Dean laughs, throwing his head back.

"How-" Sam tries through chuckles, "how the hell did you manage that?"

"I can't reveal all of my secrets, can I?"

He snorts, "Right. Sure."

He sobers up soon though, remembering another thing.

"Uh, we also heard Louise kicked you out," he says tentatively, knowing that a wrong word or a wrong tone will just result in Nathan spitting some colorful curse at him and hanging up.

"Oh, yeah, she changed the locks," Nathan confirms with a hum, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Shit," Dean says, "we, ah, tried to talk her into easing up on you but-"

"It didn't work? I thought so."

"Yeah, sorry, kid. You found a place to stay at though, right?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah! Yeah! A mate is letting me stay at his place…It's all good," Nathan rambles. Dean imagines him swinging his arm around and looking like a total lunatic. He grins at the thought.

Looking back, he never thought he'd end up with an Irish chatter-box of a baby brother who gets himself arrested over eating Pick'n'Mix and honestly? He wouldn't change it for anything.

  * ●●

They're all together- surprisingly, working on a case at Bobby's- when Louise calls them, sobbing.

The whole room goes quiet when dad puts her on speaker, going pale so fast Sam is genuinely scared he's going to faint.

"Louise," he starts slowly, "what happened?" His eyes are glued to the phone.

"It's- oh my God, John, it's- it's," she keeps cutting herself off to sob, practically screaming and Sam can feel his legs going numb. A quick glance at Dean shows him that his brother is looking as terrified as Sam feels.

"He's dead, John, my baby is dead," she wails, heart-wrenching sobs so loud it feels they could bring the walls down.

Sam watches, numb from head to toes, as the phone slips from his father's grip, hand going slack, and he sits heavily on the couch.

"John," Louise keeps sobbing, "Nathan is dead, he's gone."

She keeps on repeating it, crying like she's falling apart- he can imagine she is, in a way. Nathan is- Nathan was a handful, always. But God knows Louise loved him more than life itself.

Dad buries his head in his hands. Sam has never seen him like this. He notices his shoulders shaking, realized he, John Winchester, is crying.

Dean suddenly breezes past him. He can just see tears making their way down his cheeks before he's out of the room. The door rattles on its hinges when he slams them closed.

Sam, detached, like he's been carved out of all of this with a hunting knife, picks up the phone from Bobby's worn out carpet.

"Louise," he says, voice unsteady, "it's Sam."

He spends half an hour listening to her cry her way through an explanation of what has happened, and when the funeral is. Then he goes to throw up and cries under a shower.

  * ●●

Dean doesn't actually remember the ride to Louise's house- for the first time can't feel the shivers from being up in the air in a metal box for hours because his body is numb, but on the inside, he feels like a pack of werewolves is tearing him into pieces. She opens the door, dressed in black, pale and crying. She pulls them in for a hug, one by one, pressing tear-soaked cheeks to their own.

She kisses his and Sam's foreheads, but she can barely look at them for longer than a few seconds. Dean gets it.

He doesn't remember much of the preparations for the funeral either, just knows he couldn't bring himself to go to the morgue to talk over the details with the coroner with dad and Louise. Sam went, but he told him he stayed in the car.

Everything shifts, off-balance, while he lies in his sleeping bag in Nathan's room that night. Looking to the other side from underneath the bed, he can see Sam with his face in the pillow, turned away from him. Dean can't tell if he's actually sleeping, but he knows he's not. Definitely not going to, anytime soon.

He can't hear Nathan breathing and squirming in his sleep, and however much that annoyed him to the point where he wanted to smother him with a pillow- he misses it. He can't stand the silence, the black hole that occupies the space that was Nathan's. It wouldn't bother him nearly as much if he knew that Nathan was going to be back in the morning, or the next night, or in a week.

But he won't.

  * ●●

The last time John wore a suit when it wasn't for a case was at Mary's funeral. The morbid parallel might make him laugh if he wasn't so bone-tired, completely drained of everything that isn't heavy weights hooked into his soul and dragging him down.

Louise is putting on mascara in the bathroom and John suspects it'll just end up smeared over her cheeks when she starts crying (she never really stopped, eyes always simmering with un-spilled tears) during the ceremony. But he can't bring himself to say anything. It's not his place to say anything.

And even if it was, he doesn't know what he would say. They were both Nathan's parents, but he can't even pretend to know how she feels. She was the one always there for Nathan; for his first word, for his first steps, for his first birthday, the first day at school. Hell, John can't say that he really knew Nathan (and God, how that notion burns, picks at the open wound with an incandescent needle).

  * ●●

He stares down at the coffin, at his son, pale and unmoving. He might be wearing a suit, but John can still clearly see the massive scar on his chest. The coroner was done patching him up by the time he and Louise came down to talk about the funeral arrangements, but John has seen too many corpses in his life not to know what it looked like before, not to have it ingrained in his memory.

He doesn't know anyone beside Louise and his boys, can't place any name to a face, and it's another reminder that he doesn't know much about his son's life. Not nearly enough. He was always trying to keep him safe. That wasn't an option with Sam and Dean- he was hoping Sam could get away, but in the end, he's exactly where he has started, back with them and hunting monsters, putting his life at risk. He couldn't let that happen to Nathan. John has done a lot of things in his life that he's not proud of, has saved a lot of lives, but possibly ruined two that matter the most. He was going to be damned if he dies without doing one good thing worth the pain and hard work; making sure Nathan never gets tangled up in the bullshit that name Winchester brings with it. Making sure Nathan lives a safe and happy life.

But there was always another monster to hunt, another lead to chase, another life to save, the promise he gave to Mary always had to be kept up. And somehow, in the process of that, he failed to keep up the one he made to himself. The one that he, in extent _and_ core, gave to Nathan.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, I'm evil for ending the story like that. BUT I am planning a sequel and will *maybe* turn this into a series. ;)


End file.
